


Mornings With You

by AnkhMorporkBoneZone



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bathtub Sex, F/M, Fingering, Married Couple, Menstrual Sex, moist doesn't get pegged but, orgasms to help with menstrual cramps, they talk about how much he gets pegged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:28:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28787964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnkhMorporkBoneZone/pseuds/AnkhMorporkBoneZone
Summary: Moist and Adora are back together after weeks apart, and to say they're "frisky" doesn't quite cut it. But Adora's body has its monthly... gift to pass along.Well, at least Moist knows a thing or two about helping his wife relax.
Relationships: Adora Belle Dearheart/Moist von Lipwig
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Mornings With You

**Author's Note:**

> Me, leaning so close to the microphone that my lips brush against it: _even in fics where Moist von Lipwig doesn't get pegged, I need you to know that Moist von Lipwig gets pegged... because Moist von Lipwig definitely GETS PEGGED._
> 
> Posting because I gotta get this thing out of my drafts and better now than never~~ Enjoy!

Lazy morning light was bleeding in through the windows, pale blue-gold in the sleepy hour of dawn. Moist stirred to the sound of his alarm clock, blasted contraption that it was, and groaned out a low noise as he rolled over.

It took a moment more for his eyes to open and a moment longer after that for him to realize that his wife was not in bed with him. His arm reached out and patted the mattress beside him, double checking the fact, and then he let out a sigh.

He rolled out of bed, adjusting his pajamas as he went, righting them absently as he plodded to the bathroom. As he opened the door, some steam hit his face and he smiled.

“Good morning, Spike,” he said, yawning as he walked to the washbasin.

There was a slight splash of water from behind the screen, where the bathtub was sat, and then Adora’s voice, cool and humorless, came like honey to Moist’s ears.

“Good morning, Moist.”

Moist snuck over to the screen, standing on his toes to peek over the top of it carefully as he spoke in a casual tone. “And how’s the grand mistress of the Grand Trunk, today?”

From where he stood, Adora’s back was to him. Her pale skin was flushed with the hot water, and as Moist watched, she scrubbed a washcloth over one of her shoulders.

“She’s…” Adora began, but then she stopped and her head turned, her eyes snapping over to look at him.

Sitting in the bathtub, her dark hair hanging loosely around her shoulders, her skin shining with suds and water, Adora Belle glared like she was entering a contest for it.

“Why are you _peering_ at me?” she asked.

Moist shrugged. “Do I need a reason to admire the view?”

“Well, no, of course not. But you’re going about it like a damned peeping tom.”

He grinned fondly. “Well, half the fun is the thrill of the voyeur.”

Adora rolled her eyes, though the slimmest of smiles turned at the corner of her mouth. “If you think the fun part is when your wife doesn’t notice you, we should probably rethink this whole arrangement.”

Moist nodded sagely, still grinning as he stepped back from the screen. “Right as always, Adora.”

He stood before the mirror, running a hand over the stubble on his chin experimentally before deciding that he really _did_ need to shave today. As he grabbed for his razor kit, Adora spoke.

“Oh, and I should congratulate you.” She said.

Moist hummed, spreading foam over his chin and answering, half-minded. “Oh? Did I do something good?”

Adora’s voice didn’t change inflection, which generally meant she was smirking at him knowingly. “Not so much what you _did_ as what you _didn’t_ , love.”

Moist frowned, pausing with the razor in his hand. He stepped back over to the screen and looked over it with far less lurk than he had before. Adora was washing her hair, but she stopped long enough to give him a sidelong glance with, as he’d guessed, a half-amused smirk.

“Congratulations on _not_ becoming a father this month, Postmaster.”

 _Ah_. _Right_. _It was that time, wasn’t it?_

Moist smirked a little. “Well, I’m sure your boyfriend the Master of the Royal Mint and your other boyfriend the Banker will be happy to hear about that.”

Adora rolled her eyes as she returned her focus to her bath. “What? Mr. Damp Moustache and Mr. Wet Nosehair? You know I haven’t seen those two in weeks.”

Moist laughed, stepping back to his mirror and starting his shave. He stopped, though, almost immediately, to ask Adora:

“Are you still going to check on the Clacks on the east side of the city, then?”

She sighed. “A bit of menstrual blood and some cramps have never stopped me before, Moist, I’m not going to let them, now.”

Moist heard the splash of water as Adora presumably rinsed the soap from her hair, and then she continued, in a low, unenthused voice:

“I’ll get myself a cup of that goblin tea Of the Twilight the Darkness gifted me, it helps with symptoms, and I’ll get myself a damned smoke, and I’ll just go and do it, as I always have.”

Moist smiled a little. “Well, should you need any other help with cramps… you know what they say.”

And he let the sentence hang in the air as he continued shaving. A few moments passed, and then Adora’s voice spoke from beyond the screen.

“And remind me what is it that they say, Slick?” she asked, in the sort of tone she used when she wanted him to say what they were both thinking.

Moist paused with his razor against his skin, his eyes flitting over to look at the screen. Adora was nothing more than a shadow, a silhouette of a bathtub with her shoulders and head sticking up out of it.

He didn’t bother answering out loud. He cleared his throat, finishing the last few razor strokes quickly and sloppily in his haste, and then it was off with his shirt as he moved around to the other side of the screen. Adora was lounging in the bathtub languidly, but she smiled as he dropped the shirt and came rushing to kneel next to the tub.

Moist kissed her immediately, deep and heavy, his hands cupping her cheek and smoothing over her neck and down to her damp shoulders.

Adora’s wet fingertips brushed along his jaw as she slipped her tongue into his mouth, and Moist moaned a little hungrily. He slipped a hand under the water’s warm surface to cup Adora’s breast, his thumb teasing over her nipple gently. Adora’s breath hitched and she pulled him closer, her short fingernails digging into his shoulder insistently.

They were, perhaps, a bit ravenous. But Moist told himself that this was only natural. Three days ago, Adora had finally gotten back from Clacks business that had taken her all the way to Borogravia, and a day after that, Moist had finally gotten back from an emergency Post Office run that had taken him out to Sto Lat for a couple days, and then they had _finally_ managed to have a moment together, and it just wasn’t enough.

It was simple math that they both had work that kept them busy and, even worse, kept them from sharing a bed every night. So, naturally, they had to make up for it somehow. When Golem Trust or Clacks business took Adora to far-flung places, or when the Bank or the Post Office needed Moist to stay late or head a delivery drive, the both of them got all pent up until they had no choice but to act like a couple of rabbits when they collided again.

Adora gasped against his mouth as Moist’s hand drifted further down, and he was glad he’d gone ahead and removed his shirt entirely, because he was up to nearly his shoulder in the bath as his fingertips finally traced Adora’s body and slipped down to brush against her clit softly.

Adora’s hips bucked impatiently, and she opened her eyes to give him a look that said “ _don’t you dare toy with me_ ”.

Moist smiled, using his free hand to brush her long, wet locks out of the way so he could kiss her neck softly. He moved his hand against her clit in soft circling motions and he listened for the quiet changes in Adora.

It was immediate, really. She closed her eyes and relaxed, the hands on Moist’s shoulders not clinging quite so tightly anymore as she moved with the strokes of his hand. The bathwater splashed a little, and Moist smiled even wider as he watched his wife, and he felt heat stirring up in his abdomen. He tried his best to ignore it. That wasn’t important right now.

Even in the heat of the bathtub’s water, Adora was warm. As he slicked his fingertips back to tease at her entrance, she tightened her grip on him and whispered, very softly.

“Mmm, not there.”

He moved back to circling her clit, leaning down to kiss her shoulder. “Like this?”

Adora inhaled deeply and nodded. Her eyes were still closed, he could see, and her cheeks were softly flushed.

“Faster.” She instructed, still whispering.

He obliged, adding a little more pressure as he did, and Adora hummed, the fingers of her hand threading through his hair. She bit her lower lip and her breathing quickened.

Moist used his free hand to reach into the water and cup one of Adora’s breasts, worrying the pad of his thumb gently over her nipple as his other hand continued to stroke at her clit.

Adora let out a not-often-heard moan and bucked her hips. Her eyes opened, half-lidded, and she met Moist’s gaze.

“Enjoying the show, Slick?”

Moist smiled, scoffing a chuckle and pinching at her nipple teasingly. “Too much.”

She sighed, pulling him in for a kiss. Moist pressed into it and increased his ministrations on her clit. She inhaled sharply and broke away from him, her mouth falling open and her brows pulling together.

“ _Ah_ , fuck.” Adora whispered, her fingernails scraping at his skin even as one of her arms darted back underwater and her hand desperately grabbed for his, pressing forcefully against it to make sure he didn’t move even as she ground her hips against him.

Moist kept on stroking until she was finished, and then he leaned in to kiss her. She let out a sigh and returned the kiss, bringing up her arms to wrap around him and drag him so close that Moist felt certain that she’d pull him straight into the bathtub.

“Feel better?” he asked, as they separated.

Adora hummed, giving him a smile. “You’re a dutiful husband.”

Moist grinned. “Only fair to you, Spike. After all, our success at avoiding children is, I think, primarily because I take your cock at least as often as you take mine.”

Adora snorted, then laughed outright. “I’d say you’re on the receiving end more than me, Slick.”

Moist shrugged, his laughter joining hers. “You’re probably right. You usually are.”

Adora gave him one last kiss and then let go of him.

“I need to get to the Clacks. You need to get to the Bank.” She said matter-of-factly, as she rose out of the bath.

Moist nodded, sighing at the reminder even as he took a long, appreciative look at Adora’s naked body (drawing an eyeroll from her) before she had grabbed a towel to cover up with.

“You certainly know how to leave a man out to dry. Literally.” He joked, smirking.

Adora sat down at her vanity and met his eyes in the mirror. She tilted her head and responded, flatly:

“Well, I won’t bother you if you want to help yourself.”

Moist laughed and got to his feet, doing his best to wipe the water from his arms as he went to grab a towel for himself.

He dried his hands and chest, exhaling deeply. From behind him, Adora was already drying her hair in front of some fancy new machine that the Lady Sybil* had gifted her. It was a fan that pushed hot air around, and Moist wasn’t entirely sure how it worked.

*The fact that Moist was now living down the road from the Commander of the Watch was not a fact that ever became comforting to him. However, he and Adora had been over it a thousand times and come to the agreement that they were not under any means moving to a different neighborhood. Mainly because it was Adora’s Grand Trunk money that had bought the house, and she had reminded Moist very gently that he still had his apartment in the Post Office that he was more than welcome to live in if he felt the neighbors were too much. Adora, however, was staying. So, Moist stayed. And for the most part enjoyed himself, even if, on occasion, he struggled not to jump out of his skin when he was out walking Mr. Fusspot and spotted one Commander Samuel Vimes (in regular street clothes and all) taking a stroll with his son.

He smiled as he watched Adora move methodically through her morning routine, her hands so sure and steady as she pinned back bits of her hair. His heart swelled just looking at her, just knowing that he could keep waking up and having mornings with Adora Belle Dearheart (work schedules permitting).

She caught his eye in the mirror again as he stared and she smiled a little, softly. “Admiring the view again?”

Moist beamed at her. “Only admiring you, Spike.”

Adora bit her lip, raking her eyes over him. “Well, if you’re home by dinner, I might consider letting you admire me again while we continue avoiding parenthood.”

Moist raised his eyebrows, going for his most salacious smile. “You bring your cock and I’ll bring mine.”

Adora turned her attention back to pinning up her hair, speaking in a half-minded tone. “And only one of them will be useful.”

He laughed, leaning down to grab his discarded pajama shirt as he walked back to the washbasin where he’d started.

Moist had to get to the Bank. Adora had to get to the Clacks. They both had to get to work, as disappointing as that was. But maybe… if he could fall asleep even half of his nights with Spike in his arms, then things would be just fine in his book.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a kudos or comment if you enjoyed it!


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